1. where it all starts

Sam could understand why Dean was so intent on finishing this hunt. They were, after all, in Duluth, Minnesota in the middle of winter. Anyone would want to leave with this weather. How did people live here the whole winter? Dean hated the snow. He didn't want to admit it, but his precious Impala was not built for this terrain, but he could never part with it. The sooner they left, the easier the driving.

Eventually, they reached the general area of all of the disappearances. From gathered research, they had come to the conclusion that a Wendigo was terrorizing the residents of the secluded neighborhood. It laid at the base of a large wood, which was not surprisingly, a very popular camping location. Nobody understood how people were going missing, and the bear excuse was out of the question. Bears, after all, were hibernating. Naturally, the woods were closed off, but that didn't stop pesky teenagers from heading out. Stories were spreading of a man eating beast, which was sadly extremely accurate.

Sam and Dean stepped out of the car, each heading to the trunk to gather the necessities. Sam felt excited to put an end to this minor hunt, and ready to take a much needed vacation to anyplace tropical. He felt as if he would never be warm again.

It was still early afternoon, giving them plenty of time to set up camp before dark. With that, they set out. Sam watched for any sort of place a Wendigo would hide out, whilst Dean stared intently at his breath that was visible in the crisp air. Rubbing his hands together, Sam blew onto to them provide much needed warmth, when a voice sounded above them.

"You two idiots are not prepared for a camping trip here," a young girl said. Sam and Dean immediately looked up. Above them was a girl, thirteen years old at most, perched on the high branch of a pine tree. "You're going to freeze to death," she stated blatantly.

"What are you doing here?" Dean cried incredulously. Sam wondered the same thing. As far as he could tell, she was completely alone.

"Same thing as you," she retorted.

"I highly doubt that," Sam said.

"Really?" she replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "What are you doing here?"

"You wouldn't believe us," Dean pointed out.

"Try me," she said, pushing off the branch. She landed easily in the snow, not even flinching. "Because if you're hunting a Wendigo, then I think we're on the same page."

"There's nothing you can do to stop me," she said with impatience. Dean stood taller, taking a step towards her. "Sure you could easily drag me away, but then what? I'll just come back and you'll have lost precious time and daylight." Dean knew she was right, as did Sam. There was nothing they could do; Sam had just come to the conclusion earlier than Dean.

"Fine," Dean agreed. "But you have to stay within the salt circle," he said, with no room, for negotiation.

"Whatever," she said, before adding, "Canem." Sam outright laughed.

"What did she say?" Dean asked Sam.

"Dude you really need to learn some Latin."

She just called Dean a bitch in Latin.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Later that night, when camp had officially been set up, the sun started to dip beneath the horizon. The seriousness of the hunt began to settle in, and they were all quiet. Sam watched as Lily absentmindedly picked at her fingernails with a heavy duty pocket knife, which he later realized contained a pure iron and a pure silver blade. Sam himself rolled a small dagger over his knuckles, waiting for the sun to completely disappear. Dean was flipping through their father's journal, looking for nothing in specific.

Eventually, an eerie dark had settled over the forest. Lily looked up from her knife, and Dean silently placed the journal down in his backpack. Sam stepped away from the comfort of the crackling fire, grabbing his flare gun.

"Ready Sam?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. Dean grabbed an extra flare and lighter from his bag, walking over to Lily. "Use these if necessary," he said to her.

"Don't need them," she said.

"Look," Sam said. "Salt circles don't always work 100%-"

"I said I don't need them."

"You don't need to prove yourself," Dean said. She looked at him.

"I told you! I don't need them!" She unzipped her jacket and pulled out a flare gun. "I'm not stupid you know. I came prepared."

"Do you even know how to work that thing?" Dean asked. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on Dean," Sam said. "She'll be fine."

"Whatever," Dean replied. "Just stay put or you'll be its next snack. I heard it likes cute little brunettes." She smirked before moving to sit next to the fire.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said, putting on an innocent face. Sam questioned it internally, but decided he didn't have the time to think about it too much. Without a glance back, they set out, in hoped to lure it out. They were barely ten feet away when Dean knew something was wrong.

A large force threw Sam at the nearest tree. It moved too quickly for Dean to see, but he knew it was the Wendigo. The leaves ruffled and before he knew it, he had joined Sam at the base of the tree. His injuries not preventing him from rising, he slowly stood, unlike Sam. The beast moved slowly towards him growling. It was hard to imagine it was once a human being, forced over the edge by cannibalism.

"Duck!" Lily yelled, and Dean saw her standing a close five feet to them. Before the Wendigo had time to react, she had pulled the trigger. Dean threw himself down on top of Sam, as the creature burst into flames.

Dean rose, glancing down at his unconscious brother. Looking at Lily, he smirked.